The work of Boston-based visionary artist and architect Paul Laffoley has been exhibited extensively in recent years including major museum shows in London, Paris, Berlin and Seattle. His oeuvre is informed by fringe science, a degree in architecture from Harvard and the occult. In 2009 Laffoley was awarded a Guggenheim Memorial Foundation Fellowship for Creative Arts. Next year an extensive catalogue raisonné of his art is set to be published.

Paul Laffoley’s work can be categorized into several different strands: His architectural pieces which are comparable to schematics or blueprints; his inventions of apparently far out sci-fi devices (keep in mind that every single thing Jules Verne dreamed up eventually came to pass); his plans for a working time machine and for a “living” plant house that would be grown from a single seed.

The artist claims that his “Das Urpflanze Haus” will help solve the worldwide housing crisis.

How did the idea of physically alive architecture first occur to you?

I don’t… I don’t recall… (pauses) I was thinking of how to make a link all the way from Earth to the Moon and I realized that it would have to be something which was self-repairing. Something like that would always be getting hit by asteroids and space debris, so only something alive could self-repair if you were gonna do that. Fixing it would just be too impractical.

Vegetation connects to itself and grafts to its own kind. That’s how vegetables survive, by sending out rhizomes in times of danger and becoming a single plant. The German poet Goethe was fascinated by the idea that there existed an ur-plant that could connect, or graft, all of the plants on Earth together as one big worldwide plant, but he never found it. The name “Das Urpflanze Haus” is a tribute to him. But the primordial plant, something that’s been around since the Jurassic period, is Gingko Biloba—kept alive by monks in their gardens—which has DNA common to every plant living today. The link to the Moon would be constructed from shapes like Buckminster Fuller’s spheres, but they would have to be alive, to be plants. They would have to be grafted together. There would, of course, also have to be a water source.

And then I started thinking that if something like that is going to be built to go to the moon, what could we do on Earth, and that’s where the idea came from. You might use bamboo in some parts of the home, for tensile strength—think of the plants as building materials—and a different kind of plant to thatch the roof, but they would all be joined—grafted together—and have a common root system. After you would make the first vegetable house, it would go to seed and then you could grow more.

Didn’t you run this concept past Buckminster Fuller himself at some point? What was his reaction?

Yes (laughs). It was 1980 and I was a member of the World Future Society. We went to Florence and I did a presentation on this that got absolutely no reaction. I couldn’t sleep and I went down to the hotel lobby and there was Fuller, who couldn’t sleep either and so I presented him with my idea to build a link to the Moon and I asked “Don’t you think this should be a living creature and not a mechanical model?” and he agreed, but eventually I must’ve cured his insomnia because he fell asleep right there in the lobby. The next day he avoided me like the plague!

North Carolina native Jason Trammell began collecting records when he was a kid, first buying 45s at the local mall before becoming a full-fledged vinyl junkie and obsessive music fan (with the encouragement of his parents). Along the way he also picked up the drums and a keen interest in the mechanics of audio design and film soundtrack work that serves him well in his career as a drummer for Brooklyn-based group Sinkane and as an electronic dance music remixer.

In this short video profile, Trammell shows the camera around his apartment (and part of his floor-buckling record collection) and rehearsal space and he discusses the passionate craftsmanship that goes into creating his music. Tonight in San Francisco at the Warfield and Thursday at the Greek in Los Angeles, you can catch Jason playing live with Sinkane as part of the big David Byrne-led musical celebration, “Atomic Bomb! The Music of William Onyeabor”

Scroll down for a chance to win a Bitches Brew: 40th Anniversary Collector’s Edition or The Beatles in Mono box set from our sponsor, POPMarket

Back in the heyday of Demonoid, some magnificent person, or persons, unleashed an ISO file that had been made from a quadraphonic reel to reel tape of Bitches Brew, the groundbreaking Miles Davis jazz-rock fusion album of 1970.

Quad was a four channel surround sound format the record labels tried out in the 1970s that was ultimately abandoned. For several years you could buy quadraphonic albums, 8-track tapes and reel to reel tapes (the ultimate “Rolls-Royce” audiophile format of the era) that decoded to four speakers. It was similar enough to today’s 5.1 home theatre systems except that today’s 5.1 music is mixed with an assumption of a front facing listener, whereas with quad it was four speakers and you were more or less in the middle of it. No front or back orientation. It was as if you were standing in the room when it was recorded. Not in the booth, with the band. Popular quad titles included Black Sabbath’s Paranoid (Imagine the sound effects of “Iron Man” swirling around you) and The Best of The Doors which included a live version of “Who Do You Love?” not released in another format and a mix of “Hello I Love You” a 360 degree flanging sound effect. Gimmicky, but very cool. Quad was marketed as “music for people with four ears.”

But back to Bitches Brew. Every serious music fan would have to have at least some familiarity with this album. It’s justifiably included in every single “top 500” of all time lists and most “top 100” lists as well. It is in the top ten best-selling jazz album of all time, too. I’m not going to “review” an album that’s been a well-established cornerstone of 20th century music, but I will say that hearing the performances on Bitches Brew in surround sound is an incredible revelation, almost like hearing it for the first time.

Here’s why: There is a hell of a lot going on at the same time in Bitches Brew. There were two electric keyboard players. Joe Zawinul was placed in the left channel of the stereo mix and Chick Corea in the right. (They’re joined b the great Larry Young on a third electric piano in “Pharoah’s Dance”!) There were two drummers, 19-year-old Lenny White’s kit is heard in the left channel and Jack DeJohnette is on the right. You had both Don Alias and Juma Santos (credited as “Jim Riley”) on congas and other percussion. Dave Holland played floor bass while Harvey Brooks played electric bass.

And then you still had Miles’ trumpet, Wayne Shorter’s sax, Bennie Maupin’s bass clarinet and John McLaughlin on guitar! This is a very “crowded” thing for two speakers to accurately reproduce, but the quad mix opens all of this up into a considerably wider sonic vista and gives the listener a very, very good spatial sense of who was standing where when the recordings were made and even how big the studio was. It’s probably as close as you can get to being in a room with Miles Davis playing his trumpet, like an audio hologram.

The album was recorded live on eight tracks over the course of three sessions (August 19-21, 1969) in New York and then extensively, even radically, manipulated in post production by producer and longtime Davis collaborator Teo Macero. Ray Moore (mixing and editing engineer) quoted by Paul Tingen, author of the fascinating book Miles Beyond: Electric Explorations of Miles Davis, 1967-1991 gives some insight into the recording:

Like In A Silent Way, Bitches Brew was recorded live on 8-track tape, which meant you had a lot of spill. Engineer Stan Tonkel complained to me that Miles wanted John McLaughlin right next to him, which meant there was a lot of trumpet on the guitar track. You had the good and the bad together on all the tracks, and a lot of information that you didn’t really want, which meant that we had to work hard on the mixing. Teo decided where the edits would be, and I executed them for him. Some of the edits were done on the original 8-track, others on the 2-track mix. The edits could be for musical, or for technical reasons, for example to correct levels. We also added effects to the mix, such as the repeat echo on Miles’s trumpet [which can be heard at the beginning of “Bitches Brew” and at 8:41 in “Pharaoh’s Dance”]. When I was working with Teo in the early 1990s on a recording of a performance by Miles in Newport in July 1969, I was surprised to hear that Miles was actually playing an effect like that. So he and Teo must have been talking about this effect before the recording of Bitches Brew.

The sessions included Davis compositions that had been developed live by the band, “Pharaoh’s Dance,” composed by Joe Zawinul and the Wayne Shorter ballad “Sanctuary.” Macero then worked his magic utilizing tape loops, delay, reverb chambers and echo effects. Macero’s contributions to Bitches Brew are well-documented. He would lift a few inspired bars from one thing and graft it on to another section, or repeat something in order to give the improvisations a structure that listeners would recognize as “songs.” It was an unprecedented way to work in a studio at that time.

Why Sony has never put the quad Bitches Brew out on a legitimate release baffles me, it’s not like they don’t do a new Bitches Brew release every few years. Maybe they don’t even realize it’s in their vaults? Who knows? Sony did do jazz fans and historians a favor when they put out a fascinating box set of the sessions that followed the August 1969 Bitches Brew recording with the somewhat confusingly titled The Complete Bitches Brew Sessions. It’s not the raw material recorded before Macero worked his magic on the tapes, as you might expect but rather the best of the material recorded with (basically) these same musicians in the months afterwards. Come the following year Miles would dump the multiple keyboard line-up and go with a more guitar-heavy jazz rock sound. There’s also the Bitches Brew: 40th Anniversary Collector’s Edition that came out in 2010 that features the 1988 remastered version of the album (which was always considered notoriously “murky” sounding), a vinyl replica of the original 2-record set gatefold sleeve by Mati Klarwein and a DVD of a stellar live set of the Miles Davis Quintet filmed in Copenhagen, in November 1969, just weeks after Bitches Brew was laid down.

In the video below, Teo Macero reveals his trade secrets of working on Bitches Brew, how he supported Miles Davis creatively and does the single best Miles impression you’ll ever hear:

Smoking hot live version of “Spanish Key” performed at the Isle of Wight Festival in 1970

A few years ago I bought a “vintage” copy of Esquire (September 1971) and much to my delight, tucked inside was a small insert of a dozen or so pages intended to guide the incoming collegiate freshperson on cultural matters such as books, movies, and music. I’ve taken the trouble to transcribe the contents of that insert into this here post, for your enjoyment.

The cover of the insert

It’s fascinating to see opinion on the ground, before posterity has a chance to congeal it. You’ll see names you don’t recognize treated with respect, and names you do recognize treated with great disrespect. The Esquire writers divided the list up into hits and misses, basically. On the “good” list are the Stones, Aretha Franklin, Chicago, New Riders of the Purple Sage, Kate Taylor, and Captain Beefheart, On the “bad” list are The Stooges, Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix, Alice Cooper, The Steve Miller Band, and something called P-Nut Gallery.

The text is transcribed verbatim, down to every comma, colon, and ampersand. It’s reproduced exactly, as far as I can discern.

Barely legible scan of one of the pages

Where possible, I’ve tried to link to the albums that are being discussed—as I learned when I checked the albums, this is a highly imprecise endeavor, and in many cases I’m sure it’s not correct. Basically, consider it a guide at best, not an actual resource. The lesson here is that the journalists of the early 1970s were working in a veritable wasteland of information compared to what they have today, and also that Amazon and Allmusic.com are highly imperfect resources (CD information tends to trump original LP info, and so on). In many cases the artist in question didn’t release anything at all in 1971 or 1972! (At least according to popular online resources.) Please don’t write in pointing out that one of the links isn’t so super awesome; I already know that. Beyond that, your certainty is misplaced, or at least, your certainty as to what the Esquire people “must” have meant; all too often, it’s a puzzle. (Clarifications and explanations about puzzling entries are, of course, welcome.)

Having said that, do enjoy this: I’ve wanted for a while for this peculiar resource to live on the Internet, and now that’s happened.

Vintage Apollo Theatre Performances (Columbia). The Apollo was the birthplace of Aretha, Bessie Smith, Pearl Bailey, Ida Cox and The Mills Bros., and the audiences are as tough as those in a Milan opera house. Therefore, what is recorded there should be good.

The Band (Capitol—Aug./Sept.). Their first two albums were classics; they created country rock. Their last album was a disaster. This may be better.

John Lee Hooker (ABC/Dunhill—fall). Still the most compelling blues singer around.

John Coltrane (ABC/Dunhill—fall). The late Mr. Coltrane was one of the master innovators of free-form jazz.

Ray Charles (ABC/Dunhill—fall). 25th anniversary album. Five-record set, containing the best of Ray’s stuff from Atlantic and ABC. If you don’t like the raw material, you’ll like his middle period best. We like raw material.

Harry Nilsson:When the Cat’s Away (RCA—Sept.). This is the guy who did the good version of the theme from Midnight Cowboy.

Judy Collins (Elektra—fall). This will be a live album, recorded during a spring-summer tour. Judy has enormous taste and has matured into the country’s finest female folk singer.

Incredible String Band:Relics of the Incredible String Band (Elektra—fall). A very strange folk group. Somehow their gentle appeal was at its peak during the era of hard rock. Now, when softer sounds are back in, they seem to have waned. Some mysteries are inexplicable.

Carly Simon (Elektra—fall). A fresh new singer and Esquire movie critic Jacob Brackman writes some of her lyrics. What could be bad?

Pharoah Sanders (ABC/Dunhill). Pharoah performed with the Coltranes and put out some good sides with his own band a few years ago, but has become redundant.

Elvis Presley (RCA). El has been enjoying an undeserved revival of late. The Presley from which the myth derived ceased to exist as soon as he left Sun Records in Memphis, immediately before fame struck. What we got was a homogenized version. Why revive that?

Jefferson Airplane (RCA). The Airplane still has its hordes of loyal fanatics, but has been screaming for revolution for so long it has gone hoarse. Besides, there’s a paradox in screaming for revolution from the confines of a Bentley. This can no longer be ignored.

Sha Na Na (Buddah/Kama Sutra—Sept.). Specialize in Fifties rock. Never very good, but now that many of the original Fifties groups are actually playing again, worthless.

P-Nut Gallery (Buddah/Kama Sutra—Sept.). The second coming of Howdy Doody; the roots of the Acid Generation.

Buzzy Linhart (Buddah/Kama Sutra—Sept.). Buzzy has been around the Village folk scene for a long time without doing anything remarkable, and there’s no reason to expect him to do anything now.

The Stooges (Elektra). Lead singer Iggy Pop leaps into audiences, smears his half-naked body with peanut butter, tears his lips open by hitting his mouth with the microphone, and stabs himself viciously with shattered drumsticks.

Joan Baez:Blessed Are . . . (Vanguard—summer). It doesn’t matter that Joanie does songs by Little Stevie Wonder and Jagger/Richard on this LP because she still makes them sound like Silver Dagger. Damn all dying swans.

Buffy Ste.-Marie (Vanguard—Sept.). Buffy is a professional Indian. She also sings badly.

This curious little volume is by a fellow named Ed Hurst. It’s a free ebook you can acquire—should you want a copy—via the author. Hurst is a prolific self-published writer. His other titles include The Mind of Christ, The Chronicles of Misty, The Laptop Oracles, A Course in Biblical Mysticism and Mystical Tales of Romance. He’s written 22—that’s right, 22—books in the past couple of years. On his website, Hurst declares “I am called to prophesy against Western Civilization as a whole, because it is fundamentally hostile to God’s revelation.”

Just so you know where he stands, K?

After telling the reader how he’s been faithfully married to his wife since 1978, Hurst gets… personal:

“I can claim a history of total fidelity, but you’ll have to decide for yourself how true that might be. Further, I am at the age and level of exposure to environmental pharmaceuticals that my libido is about gone. It still works somewhat with my wife only because of the vast ocean of trust she has earned. Otherwise, the wiring between my testosterone and my sense of taste in flesh is largely burned out. Not much of anything or anyone turns me on, so to speak.”

Why does Hurst inflict this information upon us? He explains:

“This helps to establish me as an objective observer. All I hope to gain is an opportunity for people to peel away the layers of social mythology and find peace.”

Ah ha! So when it comes to dispensing sexual advice, impotence = objectivity? Apparently in the parallel universe that Mr. Hurst resides in this is the case. He’s clearly not interested in bringing sexy back…

Hurst blames church leaders and feminism for the decline in Christian marriages. Specifically he blames the church leaders for feminism.

“What most preachers assume is good moral values still leaves the door wide open for feminine domination in the home and all the attendant problems that come with it. What part of “be submissive” in God’s Word do we not understand?”

According to Hurst, this feminism shit, why, it’s anti-Christian…

“Men tend to be a little lazy, particularly about enforcing moral boundaries. It requires a bit of indirect prompting, but direct nagging is a guarantee of failure. He is wired to bristle and resist. Rather, she has to devote herself to strengthening him according to his nature. A conspicuous devotion that others can see will provoke him to genuine heroism as much as anything can. Treat him like a hero until he feels the vibes and acts accordingly; a woman has no power to remake her man’s nature. He naturally gets angry if his woman embarrasses him in front of others.”

You hear that ladies, make your man feel like a hero.

Here’s Hurst’s (free) advice for the menfolk:

“Guys: Know your mission first. You simply have no business messing with women until you know who you are and what you must do with your life. That means delaying your start when gals your age are raring to go. Don’t be ashamed to come back when you’re ready and “rob the cradle,” but realize it is highly risky most of all because ten years is forever when it comes to cultural trends in the West. She’ll be quite foreign to you unless she’s partly retro. The biggest mistake you’ll make is allowing your hormones to run you off a cliff. Is she hot? Close your eyes and get a hold of yourself. Her beauty doesn’t mean a thing, except that she’ll probably be very hard to get, in one sense or another. The last thing you want to do is advertise your willingness to be a slave by staring like every other drooling loser.”

So says the guy who introduced himself to his readers by telling them that his dick is dead…

In the early 1960s, advertising probably really didn’t get any more avant garde than this homage of Alain Resnais’ “mysterious” (some might say “confusing,” others “pompous”) Last Year at Marienbad, perhaps the ultimate incomprehensible “foreign film.”

Around the time of its 1961 release, Marienbad was much parodied. This seems more sincere than a lampooning, though.

Glenn Beck has launched his own brand of jeans, 1791 Denim. They only went on the market 2 days ago, but they’ve already sold out despite the $130 price tag. I’d go into more detail about the ideology of Glenn Beck’s blue jeans, but the commercial really speaks for itself.

If you’re perceptive to the subtlest of thematic symbolism, you’ll notice it has it all: nationalist imagery, nostalgia for some mythic time period when people and things were apparently better because of work ethic or some bullshit, a noble, industrious white dude, and the romanticization of really arduous labor! The spot even demonstrates the classic hypocritical boner for “American-made” products, while Beck himself still promotes a free market that favors outsourcing on his radio show.

The final line asserts that in America, you may not get the chance to succeed, but by gum, you have the chance to try, dammit! And in the end, the guy builds a giant phallic symbol that beats the Russians to the moon! USA! USA! USA!

It’s likely some of you have already seen this. But even after being on YouTube for six years, I managed to miss it. I saw the 1970s Mandom commercial featuring Charles Bronson for the first time the other night at the Alamo Drafthouse in Austin. It was part of a reel of short subjects the theater screens in lieu of the kind of gag-inducing “real” ads shown in most movie theaters. Watching a vintage Japanese commercial in which Bronson slathers himself with deodorant while making sexy talk is lighyears better than one of those shitty Fandango ads.

The doorman is played by the wonderful character actor Percy Helton.

Enjoy the Mandom theme song (“Lovers Of The World”) by Jerry Wallace after the jump…

I remember the New York City garbage strike of 1981. It lasted 17 miserable days and gave the sweltering summer air of Manhattan the bilious aroma of the steam room at Plato’s Retreat. You’d step into the street and your stomach would clench as tightly as an altar boy’s bunghole at the sound of a Priest’s footsteps.

When I returned to New York a couple of years ago, the place certainly smelled better than it used to, but there was still a hint of piss in the air, with some notes of decayed rat and subway fumes. Not exactly what you’d call appealingly aromatic - more like something concocted in the perfumeries of Hell.

Men’s Direct, purveyors of “luxury grooming products,” has their own take on what NYC smells like and I salute them for having highly discriminating snouts. Their olfactory nerves interpret Manhattan’s scent as…

[...] a lovely sunny day in the Big Apple City. The air is filled with the scents of lilac and rose from the vast and majestic Central Park. You are walking along Times Square under the mild and fresh breeze from New York harbor. Enjoy this modern, crisp and invigorating fragrance with sparkling and sourish notes of apple.